


The Ledger

by Jo (jmathieson)



Series: Tangents and Intersections ~ Kink Bingo 2013 [97]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Gore, Community: kink_bingo, Definitely not AoS, Jossed, M/M, Major Character Injury, Okay This Looks Bad, SHIELD Husbands, Sad, Scars, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 00:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmathieson/pseuds/Jo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint gets hurt in a battle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ledger

**Author's Note:**

> Kink Bingo Round Six (2013) ~ Body Alteration/Injury

They hadn't been in a fight like this one since the Battle of Manhattan, and he'd been younger then, and angrier. Now he was just tired. Still doing his best, still putting every single arrow exactly where he meant it to go, but his draw arm ached and his legs were tired and he'd been hit and cut and scraped in so many places that it felt like they'd been fighting for days, rather than hours. 

He was up high, as usual, this time on top of a parking structure, trying to take out swarms of some sort of winged pterodactyl-like creature and calling out their movement patterns to Nat who was strafing them from the QuinJet, and Tony who was flying through their ranks and cutting them up as best he could. The damn things were carnivorous, so Cap and The Hulk were on the ground, dispatching any that got low enough to try to eat the injured civilians who hadn't been evacuated in time when this whole mess started. 

Clint shot and shot and shot and then hit his comms.

"I'm going to need more arrows, can anyone do a supply run for me?"

"I'm a little tied up here," said Tony who was doing a barrel roll through a swarm, both blasting the creatures and using the suit as a blunt object. 

"I've got it. Be at your location in three minutes, Hawkeye," Coulson's voice came over the comms, and Clint wanted to tell him, 'No, send somebody else, stay where you are, stay safe,' but he couldn't. For one thing, Phil would ignore him, and for another, seeing Phil, even for just a couple of seconds, would give Clint the lift he needed to keep on fighting. He turned and shot and turned and shot again as a pterodactyl-thing swept down and tried to take off Cap's head with its huge, toothed beak. 

Clint turned again. He drew yet another arrow to shoot and screamed in pain as one of the things swooped down and grabbed his draw arm and lifted him off his perch. Clint dropped his bow and grabbed the arrow he'd had nocked in his left hand and stabbed it through the creature's throat. It screeched loudly enough to make Clint's ears ring, but didn't let go of his arm. Instead it started to rip at his body with taloned feet. It was losing altitude, though, and Clint saw that they were only a few feet above street level as he managed to draw another arrow from the quiver that was still strapped to his back and jam it into the middle of the thing's chest. It shrieked again, and this time let go. 

Clint crashed to the ground and the pterodactyl-thing crashed next to him. Clint tried to roll away from it, but his body wasn't responding properly, the only parts he seemed to be able to move were his head and his left arm. He tried to hit his comms to report 'Agent down,' but all he got was static. 

'OK, this looks bad,' he thought as he turned his head and tried to asses his injuries. He couldn't feel his legs. He knew he was bleeding badly from a gash in his stomach and didn't bother trying to lift his head to look, he didn't particularly want to see his own intestines, thank you very much. He did turn to look at his right arm, which was hurting pretty badly, and he blanched and swallowed. It was bad. The bones were splintered and poking whitely through the mangled mess of muscle. Clint dropped his head back to the pavement. 

They say that when you're dying, your whole life flashes before your eyes, but what Clint saw instead was his future. A future with an arm that didn't work properly, despite all the physio in the world. A future where he couldn't draw a bow. A future in which he was no longer an Avenger or even a member of SHIELD. Maybe even a future in a wheelchair. That wasn't a future he needed to stick around for. Better to check out now, having done his best, having maybe wiped enough of the red out of his ledger. 

He moved his left arm. Brought his hand up to his face, his ring finger to his lips. He kissed the parallel scars that stood in for the ring that was on a chain around his neck, under his tac suit. He closed his eyes, and called up an image of Phil's face, smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks always to my excellent editors t! and Shazrolane.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at: [Queen of Wands](http://jmathieson-fic.tumblr.com/)


End file.
